


In every possible way

by Seda



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: -Ish, And another discussion about the missing I love you too's, Angst, Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, More angst, One Shot, Smut, more smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-13
Updated: 2018-08-13
Packaged: 2019-06-26 10:19:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15661251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seda/pseuds/Seda
Summary: The warmth of that night lasts them into the next morning, and through the day; and that night when Waverly sleeps, the bad dreams stay away.But then another cold morning dawns, and brings with it again that frozen unforgiving grief. Nicole comes back from the kitchen bearing two coffees, but when she sees Waverly's sad and distant stare, she sighs, puts the steaming mugs down to be forgotten, and gets back into bed.“What can I do?”Waverly shrugs.“Kiss me?”---In the aftermath of 3x02 and 3x03, Waverly and Nicole take what comfort they can from each other. And have a long overdue conversation.





	In every possible way

**Author's Note:**

> So. I'm more than usually nervous about posting this one. For lots of reasons...shall I list them, save you wasting your time?
> 
> First off, sex as comfort and distraction from grief is such a cliche. I've read/seen so many of these scenes in Straight World, and have always thought, urgh, really? Last thing I feel like doing when I'm fully down, put it that way. But I dunno, Wayhaught just might? What do you think?
> 
> Second, if you grant the premise that it is plausible, there are so many fics here that do this sort of thing better. I normally try to surround my smut with at least *some* plot...this feels a bit unearned, and not sure it has the quality it needs to make up this amount of the fic.
> 
> Third, the ILY stuff. Has been done much better elsewhere. (If you haven't read maidenstar's beautiful 'just try not to die', please do yourself a favour and go read that. It does the whole topic a hundred times better. I'm sure there are/will be others too.) Plus, I think/hope the show will get round to addressing it eventually too, at which point this fic will become completely moot.
> 
> Anyway, that's lots of reasons not to bother reading on, or for me posting for that matter. But, well, I've been writing this in my head since 3x02 aired, and I finally got round to actually writing it down, and so, well. I thought I may as well put it out there.
> 
> Don't tell me I didn't warn you. ;-)

_She struggles with the rope, Wynonna behind and next to her, the wind whipping at both of them whilst they try to hang on and_ _pull_ _, cold hands slipping, grasping again for a new hold, fumbling and getting in each other’s way. She can feel her sister's desperation as one of her hands slips from the rope again; Wynonna's arm weakened too much from the accident to provide much support; and with that more weight falls heavily on her hands. She braces herself against it but her own injury burns, her leg is not obeying the messages she’s screaming through her body; hold_ _tight_ _goddamnit, hold tight,_ _pull._

_There's just a small jerk on the rope from below and her leg gives way completely. Both Earp sisters are pulled over onto the ground together and they're slipping, the rope’s slipping; they're going over the edge but Waverly_ _won't. let. go,_ _even as she feels herself being pulled over the cliff. Until Wynonna suddenly switches her efforts from holding the rope to opening Waverly's hands from it, peeling them away, and the shock of that decision as much as the pull on her hands loosens Waverly’s hold for just a fraction of a second: but that fraction is enough, and the rope is running through and past them, snaking faster and faster until the frayed end of it whips up into the air and then it's gone, gone over the edge and away. Waverly cries out, her hand closing on thin air over the edge of the cliff even as Wynonna's hands grasp tight to her, anchoring her back to the hard cold earth. Sobbing, Waverly pulls herself the final inch to look over the edge, and sees far far below the motionless heap of blue that means the end of everything for her, the end of it all._

_Waverly_ _screams_ _._

 

* * *

 

“Nnnno - “

The force of the scream rips through from Waverly's dream and to reality, and in voicing it the awful helpless sleep paralysis is broken, and she’s awake. It's dark, and her heart is pounding, but she's in her bed, and there's a warm body next to her, facing away from her on its side, _Nicole,_ she realises with a rush. For an awful moment she's still confused from her dream and thinks that this must be Nicole’s body, broken from the fall, until she sees the clothes aren’t uniform but a sleep tank, a bare shoulder beautifully lit, soft in the slice of moonlight that makes it into the room.

She hears Nicole's slow and steady breathing too, and as she rolls over and into her back the final tendrils of the nightmare loosen their hold and slip away. She puts an arm carefully around Nicole, trying not to grasp too tight but not able to stop herself kissing between her shoulders, pressing her face tight up against Nicole's back, soaking in the contact of the warm, soft skin.

She registers the change in Nicole's breathing first, then a hand find hers, and entwines their fingers, and pulls her arm even tighter around Nicole's middle.

“Waves? You okay, baby?”

Nicole’s voice is sleepy, croaky, but worried, soft. Waverly nods into Nicole's back, and, feeling a rush of love and relief and no longer needing to worry about waking her, tightens her arm around Nicole again, pressing every inch she can up against her. And feels her racing heart finally start to slow.

Nicole lets them lie there for a second like that until the desperate cling of Waverly's arm loosens into a more normal hold, and then she shifts, turns in Waverly’s embrace. She opens her own arms and Waverly presses in, breath leaving her in a rush at the overwhelming comfort of Nicole surrounding her, breathing back in the sweet scent of Nicole, muddled with the faint sourness of both their sleep. Waverly just concentrates on the feeling of being held by Nicole, of soft hands caressing her, stroking her back, her hair. She calms, her heart rate nearly normal now, the shake and shudder and horror of it all but chased away.

“Bad dream again?”

“Yep. Uh huh.”

Waverly can hear her own voice is scratchy, and her throat feels raw.

“Same one?”

“Pretty much.”

Not exactly the same. Last night, the rope had slipped. The night before that, she'd not managed to get to it at all. The same ending though, always the same end result.

“Oh love...it's okay. I'm right here okay? It's alright, hey, shh, everything's okay.”

Waverly’s silent, allowing herself the comfort. Until she doesn’t. She pulls away, and sits up, and shakes her head.

“Everything’s not okay though, is it?"

Nicole sits too, reaches a hand out but then pulls it back when she sees the dark silhouette of Waverly flinch away from her touch.

“Waves?”

“I'm a...a horrible person, Nicole.”

“Wha - what?”

A beat.

“I wake up. And you're there. And I think, thank God. Everything's all right.”

Nicole stares at her, confused. She can't see Waverly's expression, and they're both clearly awake now, so she reaches and turns on the bedside lamp. When she turns back she sees in the weak yellow light from the shade Waverly sat with her knees drawn up, her arms around them, and sadness and frustration etched on her face.

“But it's not, is it? We still lost Dolls. I remember that the second after I realise you're okay. And…”

She breaks off, shaking her head angrily. Nicole tries again, places a careful hand on her shoulder, and seeing this time Waverly let her, she shuffles closer and puts an arm around Waverly's shoulder. Who lets her head drop forward onto her arms, muffling her next words.

“Sorry Wave, what? I didn't hear you.”

She lifts her head again, and Nicole can see her expression now laden with guilt.

“I said. Oh god, I'm a horrible person. I said, I'm _relieved_. I'm relieved it was him and not you.”

She turns fully to Nicole, looking so lost Nicole’s heart breaks for her.

“Oh, _Waverly._  That doesn't make you a horrible person. That’s natural, okay? It doesn't mean you wanted what happened.”

“But it makes me selfish, right? So long as I've got you, it doesn't matter about Wynonna, or anyone else? That's not what a good person would think.”

Nicole looks at her levelly for a second. “It’s not about being good or bad. I think that's just us, Waves.”

Waverly looks confused for a second. Good, thinks Nicole. Let's move this from the emotional to the abstract for a second. Let her big brain do its thing.

“I don't think what we’ve got is normal, Waverly. Think about it. Do you know other couples like us?”

“I’m sorry?”

Nicole actually laughs at the note of offense she hears alongside the confusion.

“I’m sorry, no, I mean. Not in a bad way. I mean, what we’ve got is amazing, and it's so precious, and I feel so so lucky to have found it. To have found you. But it’s _strong_ , Waves. I think it's stronger than either one of us sometimes. Like - “

She breaks off, takes her arm back from around Waverly, and turns, sitting cross legged on the bed and facing her girlfriend; who picks up on the change of mood, and mirrors the posture. Ready to listen, recognising this as Nicole in serious mode.

“For instance. Do you want to know something really bad? About me?”

Waverly hears the note of Nicole’s own guilt, but thinks she detects an undercurrent of her dry humour with it.

“I don't know, do I?”

“Well if you're worried _you're_ a bad person...back when we first met. When you were with Champ.”

“Urgh. Yeah?”

Nicole pauses, has the decency to look ashamed of herself.

“I used to imagine something happening to him. So you'd be free, I mean.”

“Nicole! That's terrible!”

Waverly’s tone of voice is outraged, but Nicole can see the twinkle of a smile in her eyes.

“There’s worse. I used to imagine something happening to him, and that then I'd be there to comfort you, and, ah. Well, and that that was how we’d get together.”

“ _Nicole_!” Waverly lightly slaps Nicole’s leg with the back of one hand, but she can't help it, she's giggling, tickled and appalled and amused all at the same time. “That’s awful!”

“I know, right? And that's not me, Waves, you do know that? But that's what I’m saying. What we’ve got is so strong it could make me think like that. And honestly, I’m not half as embarrassed about it as I probably should be.”

Waverly quirks an eyebrow, gives Nicole a soft smile, as if to say, _that's okay. I don't really blame you_.

“My point is, you shouldn't blame yourself for being relieved I've not died. I go to sleep every day in this damn town thanking my lucky stars that you're alright, that we’ve made it through another day of revenants and demons and renegade sisters and God knows what else. Every time I attend a crime scene here, my first thought is, thank _God_ it's not Waverly. It's okay to want to hold onto what we've got, love.”

Nicole’s been looking at her earnestly throughout this speech, and it grounds Waverly. It always does. She looks back with a wry look, a half smile of understanding and acknowledgement.

“Thanks, Nicole. I still feel horrible, but. Okay. I can see your point. I mean, I sold my sister and the whole of Purgatory down the river to get you back that time, so I suppose I'm not one to talk.”

Nicole nods, returns the half smile. And with that it's like they've shook hands on a deal with each other, in the stillness and quiet of the night. To give themselves a break, and allow themselves the miracle of their connection.

Waverly holds the eye contact for a second, but wants to say more than she thinks she can with words; and so leans forward, and kisses Nicole. It's soft, a simple kiss of affection and thanks. But it feels so good, she feels the same spark she always does kissing Nicole, so she lingers before pulling back. Then leans, and kisses her again. A bit longer this time, their lips holding the contact, then moving against each other again, and again. She feels Nicole's hands come to rest on her crossed legs, and then smooth up her thighs as Waverly lengthens the kiss, and then deepens it.

Waverly feels the familiar warmth building inside, and the quickening beat of her heart. And for a second feels guilty again; but Nicole's right. This life they're leading is so hard, and so dangerous. Let them take whatever sweetness they can find in it when they can. It’s a _screw you_ to the revenants, to Bulshar, she thinks. They can't take everything from us. They can't take this.

She raises fully to her knees, and her hands now go to Nicole, one steadying her on a shoulder, the other caressing Nicole's face and then neck, as she kisses her, properly now. She feels Nicole's hands move up to her hips, as the blankets fall from where they’d been pulled up around her, but it's okay, she doesn't need their warmth any more, not when she's got Nicole, not when her hands are rising now to her waist, pushing up and under the light material of her sleep shift, finding bare skin, and raising both heat and a shiver everywhere they touch.

Waverly opens her mouth fully, and Nicole responds in kind, and their tongues press and caress, and with the surge of that they're nearly overbalanced, too overcome with the touch of each other to coordinate their longing wet kisses. So Waverly pushes Nicole down to the bed, follows her, places one more kiss to her lips, and then lies fully on her, gazing down serious for a moment. Their bodies are pressed together, and then their arms slip around each other, and they're kissing each other like it's the first time, and yet like they've been doing this forever, soft and then hard, amazed and assured, full of love and excitement and a fierce, burning need.

And it's so _good_. How does she _do_ that, thinks Waverly. How does she set my entire body alight, at just a kiss, at barely a touch? Her own hands are roaming across Nicole’s body now, skimming light and then firm, slipping under her top, feeling the skin, moving up to touch the soft fall of a breast, hearing Nicole's shaky exhale as her hand then slips back down and around her back, then down further beneath her sleep shorts, smoothing and feeling her behind and pulling, encouraging the movement Nicole's already half started, of her hips against Waverly's.

She pulls them onto their sides, face to face and kissing, and in the shift Waverly can feel herself so wet already; but she wants Nicole tonight, wants to feel her, to convince herself through touch and scent and taste that Nicole's real, and safe, and here, and _hers_. Her lover seems to understand, making no move to take charge like she sometimes does, just wrapping both arms around Waverly's shoulders and letting her take her time and her own direction whilst Nicole simply holds her, and kisses her, and lets herself react to her touch.

Waverly moves her hand down a hip, and with barely a hint of a pull encourages Nicole's leg to slide over hers, and then she slips her own in between and up, and Nicole gasps, and Waverly moves the hand back up to the small of her back, and pulls, and then they're moving together, and kissing, and Waverly is running her hand up and down Nicole again, caressing and touching her soft skin and her quivering body everywhere she can reach, as Nicole moves against her, a slow, insistent, building roll.

It’s so good. It’s so so good. All the worries and cares are forgotten in that moment, when it’s just her, and Nicole, and the love spoken and heard by their aching bodies. They move like that until Waverly can't wait any more, she needs this so much, and so she lets her hand move around to touch Nicole's straining belly, and then slips it down, down between Nicole’s legs. The angle’s a little awkward for a second but then Nicole shifts, and Waverly finds room to slip her hand fully there, and then, _oh my god_ , she whispers.

Nicole inhales sharply at the first touch, a crease on her brow as she looks deep and serious into Waverly's eyes. Then Nicole kisses her, and Waverly feels almost overwhelmed with the sensation of it all as she starts to move her fingers, matching the slow rhythm of their bodies with her hand at Nicole's centre. At this they break the kiss, as both their breaths starts to come faster, and Waverly watches from her position held so close to Nicole, in her arms, as Nicole’s eyes first flutter shut, and then screw up hard, and her gasps give way to soft moans, as the movement of her body against Waverly and her hands quickens, and gets serious, and gets strong.

Waverly _loves_ this. She loves this so much. Seeing Nicole like this, lost to sensation, moving instinctively, the only time she ever gets even the slightest bit out of control. And it's the knowing it was because of _her,_  of her touch, that it was something they could only do together that draws Waverly close to the edge herself. Nicole’s breathing is harsh now, ragged, and there’s sweat beading on her forehead and body with the effort of it, because her movements are getting harder, thrusting in serious now against Waverly and her hand, as their heads bow together, and touch.

_I love you_ , Waverly thinks. But just says, in a murmur, “Come for me, baby.”

Nicole's hips jerk, hard, and her arms instinctively clench Waverly even tighter to her, and her head’s thrown back as the shivers run visibly through her body as she cries out her release, and Waverly sees and hears and feels it all like it's the first time; thinking, _I love you, I love you, I love you_.

 

* * *

 

For a while there's nothing but the sound of their breathing, as they lie, unmoving, tangled still in each other, recovering slowly together. Eventually Nicole gathers herself, places a simple sweet kiss to Waverly's lips, then rolls onto her back, pulling Waverly with her.

“Whooo. That was _good._ ”

Waverly chuckles quietly, happily, as she tucks herself against Nicole, lying her head on her shoulder as Nicole wraps one arm around her. Hums out an acknowledgement.

“Are you okay?” Nicole asks.

“Yeah. I am now.”

“No, I mean…”

“Yeah, I know what you meant. And yes. I kinda sorta got there too. But that’s not what I mean. I mean I'm better now, about everything. _Thank you,_ Nicole.”

It's Nicole's turn to laugh, simple happiness in her voice for the first time in what feels like forever, as she waves vaguely with her free hand.

“Oh, no problem, Waves, any time, you know.”

They both laugh softly then, punch drunk from the love they made and the closeness and the lateness of the hour. Nicole reaches over, and hits the switch on the light, and they readjust into each other, and pull the covers up; and they sleep. This time a deep and dreamless sleep.

 

* * *

 

The warmth of that night lasts them into the next morning, and through the day; and that night when Waverly sleeps, the bad dreams stay away.

But then another cold morning dawns, and brings with it again that frozen unforgiving grief. Nicole comes back from the kitchen bearing two coffees, but when she sees Waverly's sad and distant stare, she sighs, puts the steaming mugs down to be forgotten, and gets back into bed.

“What can I do?”

Waverly shrugs.

“Kiss me?”

 

* * *

 

It shouldn't work. It shouldn't be so easy.

They should feel guilty for having this selfish, secret escape route from the grief they all feel. How dare they feel so good when others are feeling so bad? When some can no longer feel at all?

But Nicole was right. They're not normal, her and Nicole. When she had kissed Waverly it had taken a second, one awful panicked second when Waverly thought the magic had somehow been lost, but it's only a second, because then it all comes rushing back, and the grief doesn't stand a chance because the fire of their connection takes hold, and the ice that had frozen them in the cold wrench of loss just melts clean away, and it's just them again, in their own private universe.

And Waverly _loves_ it. She loves this. This morning Nicole is on her, and in her, and Waverly’s brain is just about functioning enough to think about how much she loves it all. How she’d touched Nicole before, and how Nicole was touching her now.

She loves, can still scarcely believe, the whole body reaction brought about by Nicole's fingers moving in her; this morning slow, and deep, and firm. She loves the feeling of Nicole's head at her breast, the sensation of her deep and shuddering breaths cool on wet skin where she’d just been kissing, tasting. She loves tangling her hands in Nicole's hair, loves the way their naked bodies fit and move together, the rhythm and curve of their love.

Waverly moves one hand to lie flat above Nicole's shoulder blade, and shivers at the feel of the muscles working there, as Nicole puts her whole body into the movements of her arm. She doesn't need to look down to know what expression will be on her lover’s face, but she wants to see it, so she looks, and yes, it's there. The furrowed brow of concentration, the half smile of lost wonder, eyes closed in simple bliss as she moves, serious and steady and sensuous, on and in Waverly.

Another shiver runs through her at the sight, and Nicole feels it, and looks up, and catches her eye, and Waverly sees the reflection of her own surging desire there. Nicole shifts a little further onto Waverly, and picks up their rhythm, and starts to go deeper, a little faster, til Waverly is whispering curses and affirmations, answered by Nicole’s own moans of  _yes love, oh god,_ _yes._  As their eyes stay locked, Waverly can feel her body beginning the end, and Nicole feels it too, and that hazy needing look comes into her eyes, and she drops her head to a breast, takes Waverly into her mouth, and _sucks_ , and with that the fire catches completely and runs and sparks and burns and Waverly arches clean off the bed as she comes so hard, shouting uncontrolled and free as her body twists and pulses, and it's like a dam has broken because she feels love run and rush through her, like a surging river that's been held back too long.

The time stretch of that infinite moment finally ends, and then she’s falling back to the bed weak, and incoherent, fluttering hands reaching for Nicole, who is there in an instant, gathering Waverly close, holding her tight; as her hammering heart and gasping breaths slowly start to slow, to calm.

“You okay?” Nicole eventually whispers.

Waverly nods into Nicole's embrace. Kisses the skin in front of her; Nicole's upper chest. She can taste the salt of her sweat.

They lie there, drifting, still lost in the cocoon of each other.

“I love you, Waverly. I love you so so much.”

Waverly can hear the emotion in the words. She nods again, kisses again. Finds the strength to tighten the arm she’d thrown loosely around Nicole, and feels the squeeze of Nicole's arms around her back, and smiles, and goes back to floating.

But quickly realises the silence is now changed. Something's wrong.

With what little strength she can bring to bear she pulls back, and then with an awful drop of her stomach, sees something like sadness and, Jesus, is that _fear_ in Nicole's eyes?

“Baby? What's wrong?”

“Nothing. Nothing. It’s just. No, nothing. It's stupid, it doesn't matter.”

“What is it, Nicole? It doesn't look like nothing. Please talk to me, Nicole. We promised not to do this anymore, didn’t we?”

“Yeah. Okay.”

She still says nothing. Waverly patiently waits. Gives her time. She's learned that too, in all the long hard conversations they’d had to have about honesty and the keeping of secrets.

“It’s just. Oh God. This sounds so pathetic.”

“Nicole…”

“Okay. Okay.”

A beat. Then Nicole asks, in a quiet, scared voice.

“Do you love me?”

Waverly feels like she's been shot. A hard, sharp pain to the heart. She sits up, away from their embrace, and Nicole does too, gathering blankets around her naked body, looking suddenly so shy and embarrassed Waverly almost doesn't recognise her.

“What? Of course I do! Nicole? What on earth are you asking me - _what?_ ”

Nicole looks down. Whispers.

“You never say it. And that's okay, I don't need to hear it all the time. But I love you so much. And I love telling you that. But you've never said it to me, and I can't help but wonder sometimes if that means..."

“Nicole what are you talking about? I've said it, of course I have!”

Waverly is indignant. _I have, right? I mean, I know I don't say it a_ _lot_ _, but I’ve said it. I must have said it. I_ _think_ _it twenty times a day, how can I never have said it?_

Nicole finally meets her eye, and, obviously seeing genuine shock and confusion there, allows a wan half smile to break out.

“Nope. You haven't. Not to my face. Not in as many words. Not to me. Wynonna has told me you love me, God, even Doc has told me you love me. But you never have.”

Waverly's lost for words, thinking back. She remembers texting _I love you Nicole Haught_ of a couple of weeks ago. It had been in a flippant moment so wasn't supposed to be a big deal, but she does remember now that it had felt weird to spell those words out.

She casts her memory further back, a snatch of recollection of that strange other Purgatory: and a voiced realisation of _because I love you._  That counted, right? Or the desperate whisper to Wynonna, back when they were barely first together. _Please, I love her._

She knew she'd refused to say it at the hospital that time. Too final, too easy to say and then for there to be the option of letting Nicole slip away. Not saying it, so that Nicole would simply have to live.

She also knew for sure she'd not said it the first time they'd made love, though she had wanted to so much, though she was bursting with the emotion and the words that went with it. She hadn't wanted the cliche, had maybe not wanted Nicole to think her some dumb small town girl having a sexual awakening and confusing it for love. And she hadn't wanted Nicole to think her feelings for her were only in the wonder and beauty of that moment, knowing even before then that they ran deeper than that, and that they had already taken root some time before.

She searched her memories of their relationship, finding nothing, shaking her head slowly in disbelief, and feeling Nicole's quiet watchful eyes see her reach the realisation.

Shit. _Shit_. She’d never told Nicole she loved her.

Waverly pulls another blanket up around her own body. Armour and shame.

“I’m so sorry. You're right. God, I can't believe I haven't…but I do. I promise you I do.”

Nicole hesitates, registering the sentiment with some relief, but aware of the words dodged again. And so presses.

“Why haven't you said so, then?”

“I don't know. I don't know.”

_Yes you do,_  says a small part of Waverly. She sighs.

“No. Yeah, I do, actually.”

Nicole waits. Until Waverly says under her breath.

“It's too easy.”

“What?”

“It’s too easy to say. Particularly given that it doesn't mean anything anyway.”

It's Nicole's turn to be shocked.

“Um, Waves? I'm sorry, but it _does_ mean something. And it's not easy. I understand with everything in your history it's probably really hard for you, which is part of why I haven't pushed it. But it's not easy for anyone. So when it's said, yes it does mean something.”

Waverly feels herself flinch away, not really knowing why, but finding she needs some separation to think this one through. She gets out of bed, pulling her nightdress back on in the process. Then turns to Nicole, and turns the question back.

“Does it, though?”

She can hear the upset in her own voice. She doesn't know where this is going yet, but knows herself too well not to realise it's going somewhere. The bitter words start to flow, and it's like another dam has been breached, one that Waverly hadn't even realised had been there.

“Does it mean something really? What does it mean?”

Waverly starts pacing back and forth, punctuating her words with agitated gestures in the air.

“I mean, you can get drunk, and hit your wife, and then get _more_ drunk, and say you're sorry, and I love you to her, and I love you to your daughters, and promise you’ll never ever do it again. But what does saying I love you mean when, of course, the next week you get just as drunk and do it all over again anyway?

You can say, I love you babygirl, but I need to get away from this place, and, up and leave. And you can write it on postcards from God knows where, but when there's no return address, and no phone number, what does it actually _mean?_ ”

There are tears in Waverly's eyes, and an anger now too.

"High school boys can tell you they love you, and believe me Nicole I knew _exactly_ what that means. And it didn't mean love. _God_.”

She stops her pacing, and turns to Nicole, pleading for this last to be understood.

“And you can say, _he_ can say, I love all of you, and I love Wynonna most of all, but I need to do this, and then go off, and, and, just _die_! So tell me Nicole, what is I love you really supposed to mean?”

The tears have brimmed over and started to fall now, and every part of Nicole calls at her to go to Waverly and pull her into her arms, and just kiss her tears and her pain away.

But Nicole knows her girlfriend so well, and can see the fight in her body language as Waverly swipes angrily at her tears, registers her chin raised a little in a challenge; and she can hear the question is genuinely being asked. Meaning and understanding is so important to Waverly, and so Nicole knows she needs an actual answer to her question, not just the balm of her touch.

So Nicole thinks carefully; trying to remember the exact words.

“I can’t answer for all that, Waverly. And I'm so, so sorry that's what I love you has meant to you so far. But when I say it…”

Nicole breaks off, takes a deep breath. And begins.

“When I say I love you, it means, as long as you want me, I will be by your side.”

Waverly’s breath hitches as she remembers; and listens.

“It means you’re _my_ Waverly. It means that everything I’ve done, all the good things, and all the _stupid_ lousy mistakes, have all been because I love you.

It means, I have never loved anyone the way that I love you. It means, where you go, I go.”

Waverly is still now, biting her lip, and she looks at Nicole in raw love, and with the beginning of belief.

“It means, I've got you, Waves. It means I’ve got you. It means all of that.”

Waverly’s tears have started again, but these ones are now through a real smile. She takes a tentative step forward to the bed.

“I've been telling you I loved you from the beginning, don't you see that, Waverly? When I say I love you, it means I've always loved you. And I always will.”

Waverly shakes her head once, and then places a knee on the bed, then awkwardly climbs and crawls up onto it and up Nicole's body, who exhaling in relief finally can put her arms around Waverly, and hold her, squeezing her tight as Waverly buries her head into Nicole's neck.

Nicole's now got her own tears in her eyes, and whispers, finally.

“When I tell you I love you it means you're my everything. And I'm yours. I'm just completely yours, Waverly Earp.”

She feels Waverly nod into her neck. And then, in a muffled, shaking tone.

“Okay. I, I love you like that then. Like all that.”

Waverly hears what she's saying for the first time. It's a hidden declaration, and a qualified one at that. Not what Nicole needs to hear, and not nearly close enough to what Waverly needs to say.

She pulls back, rubs her eyes, sits up a little. Clears her throat. Looks into Nicole's eyes, and with all the sincerity she can muster, goes on.

“I love you. In every way, Nicole. Like that, but in every other possible way too. Just. I love you. I _love_ you.”

Nicole's eyes are shining too now, and she takes a deep shaky breath. Then nods, seriously.

“Okay. Good then. Now.”

She shuffles down and rearranges the blankets into a semblance of order, and lies down, opening the blankets for Waverly, and opens her arms too, raising an eyebrow in impatient request.

Waverly laughs, wipes the final tears away. And nods too.

They've done their talking, she thinks, as she lies down and folds herself back into the warmth and safety of Nicole's arms. Let their bodies finish this conversation. Let their bodies finish it, where two nights ago, it had begun.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments make the fic writer go wheeee :)


End file.
